Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lithuania and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Barracudas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Supertramp,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Cluster,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DJ Style,
Aaron Thompson,
Lindisfarne,
Ronan,
Jacques Brel,
Agent Orange,
Tim Buckley,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hardrive,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Black Pus,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
Delta 5,
The Dead C,
Matthew Halsall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roger Hodgson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Model 500,
Organ,
Average White Band,
Funkadelic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brand Nubian,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.